


Winter In Her Bones

by summerhall



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 00:38:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhall/pseuds/summerhall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could have been her husband once (and that’s right, he thinks, <em>he</em> would have been <em>her’s</em>. He can’t imagine this woman, with her up-turned chin and eyes like daggers, ever belonging to anyone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter In Her Bones

Her face is ice, hard and cold and unmoving, and he thinks it’s been that way for a long time. She is so young, this She-Wolf of Winterfell, yet men of three kingdoms bend the knee for her, and her name is said with respect from Dorne to beyond what is left of the Wall.

He could have been her husband once (and that’s right, he thinks, _he_ would have been _her’s_. He can’t imagine this woman, with her up-turned chin and eyes like daggers, ever belonging to anyone.) He could have married her in the sept at Highgarden and placed a crown of yellow roses on her head. He could have protected her from the lions that clawed at her without mercy. He could have made her happy.

Instead she’d crowned herself, the Queen of Winter, queen over the North, the Riverlands, and the Vale, before bending the knee to the Dragon Queen and King. She reminded the entire realm that the North remembered, and direwolves bit and clawed as fiercely as lions.

He doubts he could make her happy now, though. This is a woman with winter in her bones, not the girl in love with chilvalry and songs that his sister had described to him years ago. He doubts anyone could break through the walls of steel and stone and ice that she has erected around herself. He doubts she would even let anyone try.

But then the king calls an end to court, and suddenly she is there, all red hair and blue eyes and _gods_ , smelling of roses. She is every bit the refined lady he’d always imagined, despite her polished mask of indifference, or perhaps because of it. She surprises him by being utterly forward and inviting him to sup with her, and he seems to surprise her when he agrees a tad too quickly. There’s a smile on her face that doesn’t appear forced when she takes her leave of him, and it makes him wonder if he could make her smile again.

He thinks he’d very much like to try.


End file.
